


Uncovered

by kittenofdoomage



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alopecia, Bullying, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Hair Loss, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, non-conventional reader, specific descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 09:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: She’s hidden her secret for so long but Negan is determined to show her how beautiful she is





	Uncovered

You were sick of running. Ever since the apocalypse had started, all you had done was run. Now, deep in the woods that lined the beach, you were completely lost and utterly alone. In the distance, you could hear the gunfire from the camp you’d left - Oceanside, they called it.

It had only been your home for a few months. After the end of the world as you knew it, you’d fled Los Angeles, heading east to find your grandmother. But all you’d found was more death, people who would kill for little more than a granola bar.

Ending up in Atlanta, you found another group of survivors but that hadn’t lasted long either. Months of foraging, trying to find a safe place had left your little band down to three and soon enough, you were alone again, somehow cursed to survive and watch everyone die.

Oceanside seemed different until the Saviors came.

The screams and gunshots grew more distance the further you stumbled through the woods, tripping on branches, flinching at every sound. There was nothing but trees as far as you could see so when you went flying over a rotten stump, you were surprised when your face collided with broken concrete.

A small road, just wide enough for a car.

Or the truck that was coming toward you.

It rolled to a stop, the brakes squeaking in protest and you pushed up onto your hands, staring at the vehicle with apprehension. The engine idled and when the door opened, you got to your feet, preparing to run back into the trees.

A tall man with long hair jumped down, aiming a gun directly at you. Instinct had you rooting to the spot, your bladder threatening to empty in fright.

“She one of them?” the driver called and the long-haired guy shook his head, coming a little closer.

“Nah, she’s from Oceanside,” he shouted back, lowering his gun. “Unarmed.”

“Please,” you gasped out, “I wasn’t… please don’t kill me.”

The man frowned. “Not gonna kill ya, sweetheart. Don’t kill women.” His grunted reply made you frown and he jerked his head toward the truck. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?” the driver yelled impatiently. “Just leave her, Scott, she’s dead weight.”

Scott came a little closer, tilting his head as he regarded you in a manner that made you shiver. “You wanna live?” he asked quietly and you nodded hesitantly. “Hmm, you’re a pretty one I bet, when you’re cleaned up.”

You swallowed at that, knowing you were a mess. He didn’t seem to have noticed that your hair looked a little off - it wasn’t your hair at all. This man probably wouldn’t think you were pretty at all if he knew the hair on your head was completely fake and you’d been bald since you were a teenager.

“Come on,” Scott muttered again, turning his back on you. “Get in the truck. Boss’ll wanna talk to you.”

Your eyes darted to the tree line as you considered your options. Going with these men, who you suspected were Saviors, would lead to a meeting with their boss and from what you understood, their boss was the one who’d ordered the executions you’d narrowly avoided.

But running? Being alone again.

The ache in your feet made the decision for you.

“In the back,” Scott ordered, opened the side door on the truck. Inside, a few other men were huddled, guns held upright as they waited for the journey to continue. None of them paid you much attention as you climbed in, until they realized there was no space for you to sit.

One of them got up, surrendering his spot. “Hey,” he greeted, “you can sit here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, sliding into his spot, still slightly concerned you might piss yourself. 

“I’m DJ,” he offered and you nodded, smiling nervously.

“Y/N.”

“Lucky we found you, huh?” DJ grinned.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your knees and burying your face in them. “Lucky.”

*****

The Sanctuary was a grim factory, with smashed windows and barren landscape surrounding it. Its walls and fences were high and it hurt your neck to look up at the structure as DJ led you inside. The other occupants of the van started to unload the contents, contents you knew were stolen from Oceanside.

It was a dog eat dog world and you had no place in it.

“We’ll get you set up with a spot in the dormitory,” DJ informed you, taking you through the busy central hall of the factory. “You work for points here, do you have any skills or -”

You shrugged, eyes wide as you took in the expansive operation. “I - I was a teacher, before,” you whispered, hugging your arms around your middle. “I guess, since… since everything happened…” Your words trailed off and DJ paused. 

“What did you teach?”

“8th grade,” you replied. “Mostly home economics.”

“You cook?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, prompting him to smile. “We’ve got a great spot for you. A lot of the ladies work in the kitchen; I’ll introduce you to Sarah, she’s mostly in charge down there.”

It didn’t seem to be up for question so you followed DJ down a long corridor into an industrial-sized kitchen. The whole place was bustling with life, much busier than Oceanside had ever been. You’d kept to yourself there - you had no doubt you’d do the same here.

Survival was key, after all.

Sarah, a large blonde portly woman with a stern face that unexpectedly hide a bright smile, was actually nice. DJ left you in the kitchens with her, promising to come back when he’d checked in with “The Boss” and found you a space in the dorms.

“It’ll be nice to have someone useful around here,” Sarah commented as she led you down toward the storage rooms. There was a mass of food in there, tinned and fresh, and you stared for a moment at the large quantities you’d never expected. “As you can see, we have to make do with what we got. There’s a few hundred mouths to feed here, so we cook in bulk.”

“Stew?” you asked, looking over at her.

“You got it,” she replied, crossing her arms over her copious bosom. “Stews, soup, sometimes if we’re lucky, the boys’ll bring in a couple of deer.” Casting your eyes upward, you frowned at the various birds hanging from the ceiling of the makeshift pantry.

It was a few hours before DJ returned, his expression pensive as he approached you. Sarah had you peeling potatoes - boring work but satisfying. In all honesty, you’d hadn’t expected to be put straight to work but you were grateful for it.

“Hey,” DJ shuffled up, catching Sarah’s eyes across the room. “Um, Negan’s requested to see you.”

Sarah turned at DJ’s words, crossing the floor to stand near you. “It’s okay,” she assured you, touching your arm gently, “Negan looks like a vicious bear but he’d never hurt a woman.” You blinked, looking back at DJ. He smiled with a shrug which wasn’t very reassuring.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?” 

Nodding, Sarah gave DJ a warning look before walking away. You wanted to ask what the look was about but DJ quickly turned. Immediately, you tore off the apron you’d been loaned and left it on the side, hurrying after him.

“Negan is… he’s the guy who -” Words failed you and DJ gave you a grim look.

“Negan is Negan,” he muttered. “We’re all Negan.”

His comment confused you but you didn’t say anything else, letting him guide you up into the more residential parts of the building. It was quieter, lines of closed doors, varying degrees of homeyness through the corridors.

Negan lived at the furthest end of the building where dormitories became rooms shared by couples and families. Most of the rooms were empty - you assumed most of the occupants were out working to earn their keep.

You hadn’t seen so many people in one place in years. Oceanside had been a sizeable settlement but this was… this was impressive.

DJ slowed to a stop by a door at the far end of the corridor, his shoulders pensive as he knocked and waited for entry to be granted. “Come in!” was the gruff answer - he grabbed the door handle, glancing back at you with a little nod of his head.

Your legs were shaking as DJ led you into the large room, its high windows flooding sunlight across the floor. On one side, a huge bed dominated the space, and on the other, two couches were placed opposite each other.

The imposing shadow of the man by the window moved across the sunlit carpet with his footsteps and you met his eyes, swallowing nervously at his somewhat charming smile. “Negan,” DJ ducked his head, gesturing to you, “this is Y/N.”

Negan’s smile widened, the white of his teeth only adding to the boyishness of the expression. “Well, howdy there,” he drawled, teetering backward on the heels of his boots. “Thank you, DJ. I’ll send Miss. Y/N back down to you when I’m done.”

You were uncertain about the sound of that but DJ was scurrying out of the boy like a frightened dog. Negan waited until the door was closed, giving you a quick wink before gesturing to the couches.

“Have a seat, sweetheart.”

Hesitantly, you took his offer, sliding onto one of the large leather cushions, watching warily as Negan took a seat opposite you. “I… I thought…” You swallowed, nerves getting the better of you. This wasn’t the guy you’d seen at Oceanside, the one with the eighties porn tash and lecherous grin. “I’m sorry. I was expecting someone else.”

Negan’s eyebrows shot up. “Someone else?” He laughed but you remained quietly, folding your hands into your lap, feeling very much like a child being scolded. The laughter subsided; Negan sat back, regarding you as if you were prey.

Maybe you were.

“Now, I’m not gonna lie to you, darling,” he started, resting one arm on the back of the couch, “I’m hearing some disturbing fuckin’ things.” His other hand moved, coming to rest on the baseball propped at the side of his seat. Your eyes went wide, traveling the length of the vicious looking weapon. Negan hummed, smiling at it almost like one would a lover. “Beautiful, ain’t she?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, as if it wasn’t the most terrifying thing you’d seen. 

Today at least.

“You were livin’ at Oceanside.”

“Yes.”

His lips twitched up again, amusement twinkling in his eyes. You figured he was around fifty, judging by the lines on his face. Obviously used to manual labor, if the muscles compounded into tight leather and denim were anything to go by.

Curiosity dragged your gaze to his crotch for all of a second before your cheeks flamed and you looked at a patch on the couch just beside him.

“What happened?”

You rubbed your fingers together, hunching your shoulders. “Y-your men came. They… they took the supplies and then… one of the men…” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried not to remember the way the bullet had torn through the back of Gareth’s head, splattering his brains all over his wife. You shuddered at the memory, feeling bile in the back of your throat.

Negan’s jaw tensed. 

It took a deep breath to hold back the tears. “The one with the moustache. He… he said… there was a price to pay for disobedience.” You kept your eyes closed, clasping your hands together. “I ran.”

There was silence for a moment before you managed to force your eyes open and focus them on Negan. “Smart,” he murmured, his smile no longer lighting his face. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I can assure you,” he slapped his hands on his thighs and got to his feet, “Simon’s actions were his own and he’ll be fuckin’ payin’ for ‘em.”

You watched him pick up the bat, the weapon swinging like an extension of his arm. “Are you going to kill him?” you asked quietly.

“Shit,” Negan chuckled, “I’ve thought about it.” He paused, looking down at you. “You got any family back at the beach?” Your answer was a quick shake of your head. “That’s fuckin’ somethin’, I suppose.” A sign passed through his lips. “You’re welcome to stay. DJ already sorted ya out with Sarah in the kitchen, he says you can cook?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “I guess.” Looking down at your lap, you exhaled softly through your nose. “I don’t have anything to go back to. But…” You met his eyes again and Negan frowned. “I don’t want to put more pressure on your resources. I mean, you already have a lot of people here and -”

He started to laugh, the loud sound startling you into falling silent. “Sweetheart, you are somethin’ else. People are what’s important.” His smile returned and your own returning smile shocked you. “As long as we’re on the same wavelength -” Negan swung his bat over his shoulder and winked at you. “Then it’s all sunshine and fuckin’ roses.”

*****

_ One Month Later _

The evening wash up wasn’t your favorite time of the day. Being the new girl, you were assigned a lot of the busy work Sarah or the other kitchen workers didn’t want to do but you kind of enjoyed being occupied all the time.

Tonight, there’d been a feast. Three boars had been brought back and with the crop of potatoes from Oceanside, there was enough to ensure full bellies for everyone. You’d felt kind of guilty, knowing that others were going hungry, but it has dissipated when you’d seen the kids happily munching down on the meal you’d helped prepare.

Everyone had gone by the time the last dish had been brought back through and you’d started to enjoy the peace and quiet. You hummed under your breath, the tune one you recalled enough to know but not enough to know the words.

“Well, hey there, sweet thing.”

The voice sent chills running down your spine and you froze with your hands in the lukewarm water. Simon’s boots clicked on the kitchen floor, each step bringing him closer to you. You didn’t turn, your nerves rooting you to the stop as he came to a halt, leaning on the counter behind you.

“I’d heard one of you had run. And went tattlin’ to Negan.” He chuckled, low in his throat and you closed your eyes, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Don’t worry, though. Won’t kill ya for it.”

Maybe it was supposed to be a joke, but all it did was make you want to piss yourself. “Can I help you with something?” you asked, voice cracking with nerves.

Simon grinned, moving a little closer. You could feel the heat of him behind you and when he leaned in, breathing too heavily and way too friggin’ close, you shudder. “Hmmm,” his hand landed on your shoulder, “you really are a pretty girl.”

Your stomach churned. Simon’s hand moved, grasping the back of your wig, the fabric sliding against your scalp. The shriek that left your lips was accompanied by his “ _ what the hell?!” _ as he dragged the false hair from your head.

Shame filled your face with heat and you covered your eyes, unable to look at him, unable to face the humiliation. Simon was silent, staring at the hair in his hands, before he burst out into laughter.

“This is fuckin’ priceless,” he sneered, trying to get you to look at him. The wig landed at your feet - you burst into tears and dropped down to the floor, ignoring his look of satisfaction. “Negan won’t have a boner for you when he finds out how disfigured you are.”

You didn’t look up when Simon walked away, chuckling under his breath. The floor was cold under your ass, easily numbing your butt as you sank down even lower. Sobbing into your hands, you almost didn’t notice someone new walk in, their footsteps alerting you in time to drag the wig back on.

The last thing you wanted was someone else to see it.

Negan’s voice bounced off the ceramic wall tiles. “Miss. Y/N?”

A frown creased your brow. Why was Negan down here?

Checking your wig was on, you scrubbed your face with your sleeve, getting to your feet just as Negan came into view, concern on his face. “Hi,” you squeaked, turning your back to him and resuming the dishes.

“Everythin’ okay?” he asked - you thought you could hear worry in his voice but you knew it much be your imagination.

“Fine,” you answered, voice too high, smile too tight. Keeping your focus on the dishes, you willed him to leave but apparently, Negan wasn’t about to be denied.

“Saw Simon walkin’ outta here,” he continued, leaning against the counter beside you, trying to catch your eye. You kept your face turned away, letting the messed up wig conceal your puffy eyes. “He givin’ you trouble?”

“No.” Your reply was a whisper that not even the biggest fool would believe. 

Negan straightened, facing you fully, resting Lucille against the worktop. “Christ, sweetheart, wouldja look at me, at least?”

You sniffed, closing your eyes. A second later, rough fingers grasped your chin, turning your head with a firm but gentle touch. When you opened your eyes again, Negan’s gaze met yours and you sighed, a fresh round of tears breaking free.

“What happened?” he asked, tone dark and edged with danger. Your shoulders shuddered and you pulled your chin out of his hold.

“Simon is an ass,” you muttered.

“You got that right. He makin’ unwanted advances?”

“He was going to,” you closed your eyes again, lifting your arm to wipe your face with your sleeve, “then he…”

Negan’s fingers were pushing your hair back behind your ear. The dishevelled state of the wig caused it to shift again and he frowned, snatching his hand back like he’d been burned. Your heart thudded in your chest and you stepped back, quickly rearranging the damn thing as best you could.

Maybe it was time to go back to bandanas. You’d been stupid to think wearing a wig in the apocalypse was a good idea. Keeping the damn thing clean was a nightmare.

“That’s what he saw,” you stated in defiance. “And he told me I was disfigured and left.” The tears were drying up now in favor of obstination - you lifted your chin, eyeing him stubbornly. Negan stared right back, his lips twitching in amusement.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, shaking his head a little, “you’re a fuckin’ spitfire.”

His reaction wasn’t what you were expecting and you blinked. “What?”

“You.” Negan’s smile was bright, sparking that attraction which curdled in your stomach and dropped right down to your core. “Simon wouldn’t know his asshole from his elbow where it comes to beautiful women.” You ducked your head at the compliment. “Whatever he said, I’ll make sure he knows not to fuckin’ say it again.”

“I can take care of myself,” you insisted, scowling at him.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Negan returned, chuckling under his breath. “But I wanna take care of you.” He leaned in, breaching your personal space in a way that you didn’t mind in the slightest. “And I usually get what I want.”

Sucking in a breath, you held steady, locked in a stalemate. It felt like the moment to kiss; his scent was thick in your nose, heady and intoxicating. You wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled.

“Clean up,” Negan ordered and the moment shattered into something entirely different. “You’re done here.”

“Huh?”

He laughed again, touching your cheek, his palm just as rough as his fingertips. You weren’t stupid - Negan had killed people, he had blood on his hands, more than you could possibly conceive. But the second his lips pressed against yours, nothing else seemed to matter.

You sighed into the kiss, letting him pull you closer. Negan’s hands slid around your shoulders, grasping you in a tight hold as he sought entrance to your mouth. The low moan he emitted when you stroked your tongue against his was positively obscene.

It ended too soon but you pulled away panting, fingers curled in the leather of his jacket. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, lips brushing against yours. “Marry me.”

The sudden proposal made you splutter with surprise. “I don’t even know you,” you retorted, pushing away a little, reluctant to part from him. “Besides, does marriage even work these days?”

Negan smirked. “Here it does. You become my wife, you earn your keep that way.”

“Are you asking me to be a whore?” The indignation in your tone made his smirk grow. “What’s so funny?”

“You are,” he answered cheekily, closing the gap between you again. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. If all you wanna give me is companionship, I ain’t gonna push it.” One of his eyebrows jerked upwards to make his expression all the more lewd and alluring. “But judgin’ by how you kissed me just then? I’m guessing your willingness isn’t gonna be an issue.”

Confidence had you walking your fingers up his chest until you could run your palm against the stubble on his jaw. “Do you want an answer right this second?” you purred, enjoying the way his eyes lit up. Everything about him had you drunk on lust, craving to know him intimately.

“No,” Negan exhaled huskily. “Not right this second.”

“Good.”

He seemed shocked at the ferocity with which you initiated the next kiss, neither of you noticing anything but each other for a few moments. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat had you disentangling yourself, shame darkening your cheeks as you looked down at the floor to avoid Sarah’s amused gaze. “Sarah!” Negan greeted, picking Lucille up. “I just came to talk to Y/N.”

“Hmmm,” Sarah arched one eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded the both of you. “I thought you would have been finished by now.” The question was directed toward you and you smiled, nodding.

“I was, I just…”

Sarah waved off the question. “Off with you. Kitchen’s mine for the night.” You nodded again, tearing off your apron. Negan watched for a second before moving across the kitchen to the portly woman. “Don’t start with me, mister,” she snapped, pointing a finger at him.

Negan laughed under his breath. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You takin’ another one of my girls?” she asked - your head lifted at that, confusion on your face. “Because losing Laura to your little inner circle was inconvenient.”

Tilting his head, Negan ran his tongue along his top lip, his cocky attitude clearly having no effect on Sarah. “That’s up to her,” he drawled, tucking one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other swinging Lucille lightly at his side. Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes, turning away from him. “C’mon,” Negan tossed over his shoulder and you rushed past the older woman to catch up with his long strides.

Both of you were silent until you reached the end of the corridor. You prepared to say goodnight but Negan didn’t stop, heading in the opposite direction to the dorms.

“Um… Negan?”

He paused, looking back at you. “Yeah?”

“My… er, my room -” You pointed uselessly back the other way.

The amusement on his face was clear. “You remember that big bed?” he asked; you nodded. “I was thinkin’... that I’d like to have you naked, spread out, screaming while I tongue-fuck your delectable little cunt until you gushed.”

The filthy leer that accompanied his words made you shiver - Negan reached out his hand, taking hold of yours.

“How does that sound?”

“Re -” There was no moisture in your mouth and you swallowed, nodding. “Really good.”

You didn’t resist when he tugged you up the steps in the direction of his room. The late hour meant many of the doors were closed along the corridor that led there and Negan paid no attention to those that were open. 

The definite click of the lock on his bedroom door turned your stomach into a tombola of nerves. He released your hand, leaning his bat against the wall reverently before shedding his jacket. Underneath the leather, he was only wearing a thin white t-shirt and you couldn’t help appreciating the curve of his back and shoulders.

Negan turned back to you, closing the distance between you once again, cradling your face in his big hands as he kissed you. You returned the affection eagerly, curling your fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck. His beard tickled your chin and you giggled, pulling back to look up at him.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you whispered, hooking your arms around his neck, “but why on earth would you be interested in some bald girl that runs away from fights?”

He grinned, raising one eyebrow, his tongue tucked between his teeth. “You didn’t run away from a fight. You ran away from a slaughter. That’s smart.” Leaning in, his nose brushed yours and you shuddered. “I also happen to find you astoundingly attractive, wig or not.”

Your cheeks heated up. “What if I took it off?”

His smile grew filthier, if it were possible. “Baby, I’m hopin’ you’ll take it  _ all _ off.”

Pushing against his shoulders, you stepped back, hesitantly reaching up and tugging the wig free from your head. Negan didn’t so much as blink before he was taking it out of your hand, hanging it on the dresser.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, cupping your cheek and dragging you into another kiss. He moaned deeply into your mouth, dropping his hands to your hips, guiding you toward the bed. You went willingly, lifting your arms when he tugged your shirt up over your head.

Between you, you undressed quickly, leaving you in your bra and panties which were embarrassingly mismatched, and Negan in only his boxers. His erection tented the fabric and you whimpered when he pulled you flush against his front, the bulge of his cock pinned against your belly.

“How are you feelin’?” he murmured, one hand palming your ass through your panties.

“Good,” you replied breathlessly, nodding. Negan smirked, kissing you again, dragging you down onto the mattress, the bed frame squeaking in protest at the sudden weight. You squeaked when his hands grasped your tits, squeezing and kneading as he kissed down your chest.

He had the bra off in five seconds flat, barely giving you a chance to register before his mouth was on your nipples, sucking hard. A choked  _ fuck _ left your lips and you arched, spreading your legs instinctively as his weight fell between them.

“Meant what I said,” he growled, releasing your breast with a wet pop. “Gonna eat you out until you’re screamin’.”

You gasped, nodding listlessly when Negan slid the rest of the way down, removing your panties in one swift move. His beard scratched your thighs as he settled between them, his nose almost touching your pussy.

“Gorgeous little cunt,” he hummed, dragging his tongue over your folds. “Do like ‘em smooth.” You hiccuped a cry when his tongue found your clit, circling the tiny bundle of nerves. “Hmmm, you taste amazing, baby girl. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

All you could manage was a nod and Negan chuckled, sliding his hands underneath your ass. The next thing you felt was his tongue pressing into your soaked hole, opening you up with slow strokes. You cried out, closing your eyes as pleasure washed over you, reaching down to run your fingers through his short hair.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, withdrawing to suck in a lungful of air. “Show me what you got.”

Burying your teeth in your bottom lip only prevented you crying out for a second before Negan’s fingers were penetrating you, two thick digits scissoring you open. His tongue curled around your clit again; the overwhelming sensation made your hips shudder.

Negan kept going, the obscene sucking sound of your slick walls around his fingers competing with his muffled grunts. Your entire body shook as he built you up higher and higher, until your cries were almost too high-pitched to come out properly.

The dam broke when his teeth scraped over your sensitive clit. Pressure in your belly seemed to flood downward and your eyes fell shut as you screamed Negan’s name. He didn’t stop, licking, sucking, thrusting through your climax until there was a significant wet spot on the blankets underneath your ass.

“Good girl,” he praised, bestowing one last lick to your throbbing sex as he withdrew. “You made a mess.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, pushing up onto your elbows, “ _ Daddy _ .”

“Shit,” Negan drawled, covering your body with his. “You really are wife-material, sweetheart.”

“I’m not convinced.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head before swooping in for another kiss. “Then let me convince you.” One hand pressed between you; you felt the head of his dick press into you, forcing a whimper from your lips. “I think you’re comin’ around.”

The first inch bordered on pain and your face screwed up, prompting him to pause and pull back. Negan kissed you, his free hand cupping your face as he tried again, your body putting up less resistance this time.

It was like everything was muffled for a second, the slow fill of his cock inside you making time stretch on forever. His scent surrounded you, his kisses distracting you enough that when he finally bottomed out, the stretch wasn’t so bad. Negan slipped one hand under your ass, tilting your hips, allowing his cock to press that little bit deeper.

“Oh,” you gasped, clenching reflexively.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his forehead to your shoulder, his own shoulders heaving with the effort of keeping control. “Shit, baby girl, you feel goddamned amazing wrapped around me. So wet, warm -” His words tapered off into a snarl as he captured your mouth, his teeth catching your lips with the ferocity of his kiss.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, clutching his shoulders, “fuck me.”

“Oh, Christ,” Negan growled, dragging your left leg up over his hip, balancing all of his weight on his right side. He rocked his hips, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back in bliss at the feel of his cockhead hitting your g-spot. “Wanna feel you cum.”

You nodded, gasping, panting, mewling your way through the pleasure, unable to do anything but hold on and enjoy the ride. His pace got harder and stronger, the bed hitting the concrete wall with a loud thud on each thrust. 

Your thighs clenched around him and Negan almost roared when your pussy tightened, slick coating him as you cried out, meeting him on each stroke to try and extend the pleasurable feeling. He shifted, kneeling and pulling you into his lap, your ass off the bed and back flat.

It felt like he was going to break you.

“Gonna cum,” Negan grunted, “gonna make this pussy mine.”

You screamed when he started to fuck you again, his cock pulsing inside you. “Fuck, Negan -”

He slammed into you, his hips bruising your thighs as he held himself deep, groaning as he came. You cooed at the warmth spreading through your belly, feeling his seed drip out down your ass and onto his thighs.

It was a few moments before he was done and the strength went out of him. He didn’t move and you didn’t want to make him but your back was starting to ache at the odd angle after all day on your feet. A twitch of your legs made Negan chuckle and he withdrew with a grunt, leaning over to snag his boxers from where he’d tossed them.

“That was goddamn fantastic,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss you before dropping to your side and handing you the boxers.

“Could say that,” you panted, waiting for your heart rate to slow. You cleaned up, puzzling over what to do with the boxers, opting to drop them on the floor with the rest of the dirty clothes. Negan watched you, laying back with one arm behind his head, the other spread over the bed.

“C’mere,” he coaxed; you moved into his side, letting him wrap his arm around you. For a second, you felt a ridiculous sense of embarrassment, before you settled down, smiling when he kissed your temple. “How were my powers of persuasion?”

You giggled, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Pretty good.”

“Gimme ten minutes and I’ll see if I can persuade you some more,” he quipped, making you laugh again.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired.” You yawned involuntarily, covering your mouth. “Been a long day.”

“Offer’s there, baby girl. You don’t hafta to do it anymore.”

“I like keeping busy.”

Negan shifted and you lifted your head to look at him. “Can I ask you somethin’?” he asked; you nodded. “How’d it happen?” His eyes flicked up to your bare scalp.

“Never figured out the cause,” you shrugged. “It just… all fell out and didn’t grow back.” He hummed at that and you ducked your head, running your fingers through the salt and pepper hair on his chest. “I haven’t really shown anyone… not since -”

“You don’t have to hide yourself here,” Negan mumbled, pulling his hand from behind his head to cup your cheek. “You’re safe. I promise.” He pulled you in for a kiss, smiling when you hummed happily against his lips. “Marry me,” he repeated, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip. “Lemme take care of you.”

It seemed stupid to say no. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, chaste compared to what you’d already done. “Okay.”


End file.
